Paulo Coelho, O Alquimista

I finished this short novel recently. It was a very thoughtful birthday gift from my wife: a book she had enjoyed that I could read in the author’s original words. The English title is The Alchemist.

This book seems particularly apt for a 50th birthday, since so much of the book is about accomplishing something truly important with your life—achieving your destiny—and big round numbers like 50 force reflection on whether one has done so.

I really liked this book. It is fascinating to think back to my reaction to Anne Perry’s Tathea, which had a somewhat similar goal, yet in comparison suffers from what I initially saw as virtues, namely depth of theology and variety of application. I guess the conclusion is something like “sometimes the sonnet really beats the essay.”

I liked the book even though I am not sure yet to what extent I agree with the details and implications of its message. That observation fascinates me too. I look forward to discussing the book with Winona.

Parenthetically, I’m not sure lenda pessoal really is best rendered “personal legend,” as Winona says it was in the translation she read. I’m not sure there’s a better brief English phrase, but I wonder whether “personal quest” or “personal destiny” or even “biography” might add something. I’m curious what Rosalynde Welch would say.

Black’s three laws of child-rearing

A friend asked me to post these rules that I've been spouting for years.

1. The work increases logarithmically with the number of children.
  Your first child is an infinite change in your life. From one to two is huge. From five to six? Nah.
  In case anyone cares, that's:   W(n) = W(1) + b log n , where W(n) is the work when you have n children, and b = [W(2) - W(1)] / log 2 .

2. The number of children you can take care of easily is always one fewer than the number of children you have now.
  When your second child is an infant, you marvel that the human race ever survived. When you have three kids and someone borrows one of them, you ask your spouse, "Is it quiet to you?"

3. It's not the number of kids; it's the number of kids in diapers.